


All Good Things (Must Come to an End)

by aceoftwos



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceoftwos/pseuds/aceoftwos
Summary: Stories surrounding Kaito and Shinichi's—almost but not quite—divorce.





	All Good Things (Must Come to an End)

**Author's Note:**

> hey, hi, writing this was a bitch. at least there's only 10 more chapters to go... ugh. anyways. hope you enjoy the fic even half as much as i hated writing it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any sensible person knows that letting your soon-to-be-ex-husband into your apartment late at night is not something you should be doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to bibi for reading and reassuring me before i posted this!

Nobody ever visits on Saturday, much less at one o’clock in the morning, and yet there’s the buzzer screaming in the background. I hit pause and Watson freezes onscreen, her scathing monologue derailed.

The buzzer grows more insistent as I approach the intercom. I hold the button down and ask, “Who is it?”

“Shinichi..?”

“Kaito?” There’s static in the background, a car roaring past, breathing. “Still there?”

“Yeah, uh… hi.”

“What are you doing here?” I wince. That came out a lot harsher than I meant it to.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was meeting with a client and it took longer than I expected. The last bus back to Ekoda already left and I’m kinda stuck out here until morning…” I resist the urge to point out that it’s already morning. “I—I was hoping it might be okay if I crashed with you?”

This is a bad idea. This is a _terrible_ idea. Any sensible person knows that letting your soon-to-be-ex-husband into your apartment late at night is not something you should be doing.

“Come on up,” I say. “It’s open.”

* * *

I open the door and there’s Kaito. I haven’t seen him in weeks.

His shoulders are slumped, his hair is messier than usual, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He’s wearing dark slacks and an ironed purple button-down, his standard attire for meeting relatively new clients. Most of his more frequent clients are used to his eccentricities and don’t care much about his choice of clothing, they’re more concerned about his talent. All in all, he looks like shit.

“Hey.”

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” I say. “Really.” I open the door wider and invite him inside. He shuffles past me, slips his shoes off, and looks around as he walks further inside, eyes widening as he takes in how little has changed. The furniture hasn’t moved, there are still books covering almost every flat surface, and the pictures decorating the wall haven’t changed.

Kaito walks past photos of our wedding, of friends at past Christmas parties, of us kissing under one of the trees in the backyard of Kudo Manor. “You kept all this..?” I want to tell him that it wasn’t all bad. Our relationship used to be the most important thing in my life, it still _is_ important to me.

“Yes.”

I lead him to the kitchen and rummage around in the freezer. Like I hoped, there’s a half-full container of chocolate ice cream shoved behind the stacks of frozen pork chops and vegetables. I leave it on the counter and head for the sink to clean two bowls and spoons. Kaito picks up a towel and starts drying.

We end up doing the rest of the dishes and by the time we finish, the ice cream is soft and there’s a puddle of water under the container.

“Shit,” I mutter.

* * *

 

We sit on the couch, the fact that he didn’t choose the armchair in the corner makes me hopeful, and I turn the TV back on. Watson resumes her dressing down of Holmes. Kaito watches quietly and slurps at his ice cream, spooning sprinkles into his mouth.

I don’t like chocolate ice cream, sprinkles, or the collection of sweet teas occupying the top shelf of the pantry. I don’t like half of the things in the apartment but it didn’t feel right to throw any of it away.

As soon as the episode ends, I turn off the television and collect Kaito’s bowl.

“Thank you,” he says awkwardly. “For the ice cream.”

I shrug and say, “You look like shit, figured you could use the comfort food.”

Kaito says nothing to this, but it’s clear that he’s thinking hard about something. I turn and bring the bowl to the kitchen, humming off-key as I rinse the bowl and set it off to the side to dry. The clock chimes the hour, way too goddamn early. Thank god I don’t work tomorrow. I have to think hard to remember if Kaito is or not, something I used to know instantly.

When I step back into the living room, Kaito is hovering uncertainly. “I’ll take the couch,” he says.

“Don’t be stupid.” I roll my eyes and point firmly towards the bedroom. He opens his mouth to protest so I add, “I know you won’t put me out of my bed. We can share. It won’t kill us.”

* * *

 

I wake up and Kaito is warm against my back, his arm tangled in the blankets at my waist. It’s not as surprising as it should be, the fact that I don’t mind. We’ve been separated for close to a year and we’re getting divorced soon. I should care. I should move away, dislodge his arm, send him on his way and forget this ever happened.

There are a lot of things I should do, like call my parents more often and stop watching Elementary reruns when I should be sleeping, and getting out of this situation is definitely at the top of the list. Instead of doing any of the things I should be doing, I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.

After all, it’s not like being asleep at this hour is unusual for me. Kaito’s always been the early riser between the two of us. I’m only willing to get up early for work and coffee (and even then, _willing_ might be too generous a word). Kaito likes to get up early for the sheer pleasure of watching everyone else stumble around in their sleepy, pre-coffee haze.

Kaito wakes up less than ten minutes later.

His arm tightens around my waist and his breathing speeds up slightly. As he carefully attempts to withdraw his arm, I make a split-second decision to grab his hand and press it back against my stomach. Purposefully sounding less awake than I am, I say, “Stay.”

Kaito hesitantly settles back in next to me and presses his nose to the back of my neck. Seconds pass and he admits to me in a whisper, “I’ve missed this.” He presses in even closer until his voice is muffled by the fabric of my shirt as he adds, “I missed you.”

I thread my fingers through his and squeeze his hand. “Me too.”

* * *

 

We doze for another half hour but it’s still stupidly early when Kaito stirs. Who the hell gets up at half past 9AM on a Saturday? My idiot of a husb—Kaito does. He attempts to retrieve his arm again. I hang on to his wrist and make a weak noise of protest.

“You need to let me get up if you want coffee,” Kaito points out. I release him without a word.

* * *

 

By the time I follow him out into the kitchen, there’s a mug of coffee wait for me on the counter. A touch of cream and no sugar, exactly how I like it. If there’s anything that settles it, it’s that cup of coffee.

“We should talk,” I say, after we’ve both had some time to wake up.

“Yeah, I know,” Kaito replies, sighing.

“It’s… it’s been a while,” I start. Nerves claw at my throat, choking me, and I have to fight to get the words out. Kaito waits patiently for me to work through it, quietly sipping his tea. “It’s been a while since I slept through the night, no… no nightmares… Been a while since I really felt safe.”

“I’d like to try again,” Kaito blurts out. He blushes immediately, ducking his head. “I mean, if you want to…”

I set my mug next to his and stand up, moving around the table with purpose. Kaito stands and meets me halfway, expression somewhere between weary and hopeful. I thread my fingers through Kaito’s hair and smile when his hands land on my hips. Our eyes meet and he raises one eyebrow in that infuriating way that’s always signalled a challenge. We both lean in and I close the distance.

We kiss chastely, cautiously, and then pull back. Kaito practically throws himself at me and shoves his face into my neck, laughing. We stand there, hugging like the world is going to end, for what feels like hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. i’m not trying to imply that shinichi is at fault for their failing marriage, tho i realize in retrospect that it might seem that way. it’s just that kaito is much more aware of what he’s willing to do for the sake of their relationship, while shinichi remains oblivious as hell. they’re both going to have to compromise.
> 
> 2\. shinichi has come to a few realizations while he and kaito were separated. namely, that he misses kaito a lot. he’s been trying to figure out how to fix things for months but he’s shit at communicating. 
> 
> 3\. normally, shinichi is shit at pushing important issues (unless they involve murder) which is one of the many reasons they separated. but this is so incredibly important and he's already stepped outside his comfort zone once this morning so he might as well go all the way.
> 
> 4\. neither of them have been sleeping well.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's it so far! well, i guess just. comment if you enjoyed it? i'd like that. and feel free to talk to me on [tumblr](http://ao2fics.tumblr.com/)!


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